Under Command
by my-goodbyenote
Summary: Oneshot, John goes to a reunion for the soldiers he went to war with and Sherlock gets dragged along. Sherlock/John, smut, John goes full commander mode


**A/N: Sooo.. This is my first smut piece. -_- what has my life come to? WARNING: As I just said, this is smutty, sexy, pornagraphic, however you would like to put it. So if you aren't into that, please don't read. **

**This was inspired by a prompt from tumblr, for cryppleddogma. Go check out my tumblr (My URL is on my profile page) to see the prompt and all that jazz. Not sure how I feel about this piece... Please leave a review, I'd love to hear your thoughts on how to improve my writing on this particular topic, considering I'm a 16 year old virgin girl writing about gay smut. Oh god, listen to me, this is embarrassing.. Well, thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy. xx **

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"John, must we go to such a mundane and domestic event? There are cases to be solved, murderers to catch!" Sherlock whined as he paced around the living room.

"Sherlock," came John's muffled voice through the bedroom door, "I have an obligation to go, and you promised you would come too."

Sherlock groaned, "Well at least hurry up then. You don't want to be late to your own event, the cab's waiting for us." The bedroom door swung open, and Sherlock did a double take when he saw John. His dark coat was tight and fitted, accentuating his broad shoulders and flat stomach. He stood with straight military posture, chin held high, poised and sharp. His hat flopped over slightly in his eyes, and as he reached up to adjust it, Sherlock felt a surge of blood in his pants. Heat rose to his porcelain cheeks, and he quickly looked away. "Ahhh, yes," He cleared his throat uncomfortably "let's go."

When they arrived at the reunion, the room buzzed with voices and laughter. Several men, all in their uniforms, came to greet John with a salute. John saluted back, and Sherlock watched as the material of his coat, so perfectly hugged his lean form. He was brought out of his stare when he realized John was trying to introduce him to his ex comrades. He looked up briefly, giving a tight smile and shaking several hands before going back to starting at John's magnificent body.

After about half an hour of what Sherlock considered tedious social interaction, they brought out a cake. Written on it was sentimental quote about fallen comrades, but Sherlock was more interested in the way John was fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves than listening to the speech. They served the cake, and Sherlock refused to have any, but watched with ernest as John dug into his piece. As he lifted the cake to his mouth, a piece of frosting fell and smeared down the front of his uniform. He looked down, and wiped up the frosting with two fingers, and brought the fingers to his mouth; his delicate tongue darting out to lick up the white frosting. Sherlock swallowed, trying to ignore the building pressure in his pants. Elements, he thought, work is distracting, and he began to sing the element song in his head. _There's antimony, arsenic... Arse..._ His eyes flickered to John's succulant arse. Damn it! He couldn't even get past two elements! His eyes flickered to the restroom and he gave John a quick smile, "Excuse me, I'll be back shortly" and quickly retreated to the restroom. John's eyes followed him suspiciously. He set his paper plate down on the table and followed Sherlock to the loo.

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Sherlock nearly jumped out of his skin when the loud thwack of the door hitting the wall echoed in the small room. He whipped around and saw John, a predatory look glistening in his eyes. Without taking his eyes off Sherlock, he reached to the door and locked it behind him with a heavy thud. Sherlock shivered. He began to walk towards John, fumbling with his pants button in anticipation. But then he heard John speak, so low and quiet he almost missed it, but he clearly heard his order. "Stop _right_ there" Sherlock's brow furrowed in confusion, then he saw John's military stance, his glittering medals hanging from his breast pocket, and hardened look of a captain. Instantly he was rock hard, the bulge was visibly straining against his pants and John smiled. "Well well, soldier, anxious are we?" John cooed. Sherlock desperately tried to advance towards John, but John put a hand on Sherlock's shoulder and shoved him back. "Ah ah ah, I want to see you do this all by yourself." He said, an eager smile stretching across his face. "I'm going to enjoy this, seeing you stand to attention for me." John took a step towards Sherlock so he was a little less than a foot away, "now, _detective_," Sherlock leaned in towards John, inhaling his sweet breath.

"Time to establish some ground rules." John murmured back, stepping even closer to Sherlock so they had only a fraction of an inch between them.

Sherlock reached up and tangled his fingers greedily in John's short hair."First rule, there will be no touching, unless I have instructed it." He said, and plucked Sherlock's long fingers from his scalp. Sherlock fought the urge to return his hands to John's hair and strip him so he could plant kisses all over John's bare body. Instead he closed his eyes and inhaled in John's musky scent, leaning as close as he could without touching. Sherlock's cock was throbbing almost painfully, and the front of his pants were damp with his anticipation. "Second rule, you will follow each and every order I give or else I will walk out that door without a second thought." Sherlock nodded vigorously.

"Third rule, you will answer to my every command with yes sir, or yes captain. Have I made myself clear?" John barked.

"Crystal" Sherlock whispered hoarsely. His pupils were dilated and he was practically drooling with lust.

"Now take off your pants." John ordered gruffly. Even though he was gazing up into the taller mans eyes, his body language screamed authority. Sherlock

stripped faster than he ever had in his life.

"What do you say?" John asked.

"Yes sir," Sherlock breathed. John nodded in approval and slipped his hands under Sherlock's dress jacket. After working off the jacket, he set to work on the buttons of his shirt with one hand, the other running up and down his chest underneath his shirt. Sherlock watched John's arms move, and could imagine each individual muscle moving beneath his thick jacket. He watched the trapezius muscles of his shoulders and neck strain and tense. He could picture the strong pectoral muscles and the rippling latissimus muscles and the individual rectus abdominus muscles all working in union to create this dazzling creature. Never had he seen the human body as such a beautiful thing before. The detective shuddered at John's touch.

"Now I want you to touch yourself." John ordered.

"Yes sir," Sherlock answered weakly, and he tentatively slid a hand into his underwear. He cupped himself and let out an involuntary groan and John smirked. John reached forward, carefully so as not to touch Sherlock's pale skin, he pulled his shorts down so they were a pile of fabric pooled around Sherlock's feet. John took in the glorious sight, Sherlock's hand wrapped around his own pulsating cock, the dark tip glistening with precome. "Stoke the shaft, gently, just barely touching." John instructed, "that's it, stroke it just like that." John could feel the persistent nudging of his own cock in his tight uniform; he ignored it, keeping his gaze focused on Sherlock. When Sherlock noticed the bulge in John's pants, he let out an animalistic moan and gripped his cock, pumping it fast. John's hands whipped out, grabbing Sherlock's wrist. "Did I tell you to do that?" He snarled. Sherlock whimpered from the loss of contact on his throbbing member.

"N-no, sir." He said. His cock throbbed, begging for the pressure to be returned.

"Oh Sherlock," John remarked almost sadly, he softly traced a finger along Sherlock's collar bone. "You were doing so well." Sherlock trembled at John's touch, wanting his hands to run all over his body, to have him invade him and take him. But instead, all he got were fluttering touches of butterfly wings and fairy kisses. "Do you really want me to leave? You broke our second rule." John whispered in Sherlock's ear, his hair tickled Sherlock's cheek.

"No sir, please don't leave, I'm sorry, I won't break the rules again." He whimpered.

"Very well." John released Sherlock's hand. "Now, as I said before, soft strokes." Sherlock stroked himself, and let out a low whine. After another minute John spoke again, "Now grasp your shaft at the base."

"Yes captain."

"Slowly pump your cock," John ordered, "Good, now faster." Sherlock moaned, and pumped for another thirty seconds. John could see he was close to release. He pulled Sherlock close, and nipped at Sherlock's ear, then kissed it, and planted kisses along his jaw to his mouth. Sherlock kissed him back passionately, his tongue venturing to explore unmapped territory. Sherlock sucked John's lower lip, biting it softly, then broke away to gasp for breath. He was pumping his cock in hard long strokes. John traced his tongue along Sherlock's upper lip, inhaling his hot breath. John pulled Sherlock's body up against his own, letting him rub against him and he groaned from the friction it caused on his own erect cock. John's cold metals pressed against Sherlock's bare chest, Sherlock's skin tingling where they made contact. The awards jingled on John's chest as they rocked back and forth against each other.

Sherlock leaned into John, rutting hard against him, "I- I'm... I'm going to-" Sherlock stuttered, then his knees buckled and he collapsed onto the shorter man as he came. His body convulsed in spasms of pleasure and he cried out. John backed up several steps and leaned against the wall, letting Sherlock rest on top of him as he caught his breath. Sherlock looked down at John's uniform, his pants were covered in sticky ejaculate. Sherlock flashed a guilty look to John, "Sorry captain," he said with a smirk.

John gave him a reassuring grin in return, "It's fine, " He said, "lets go home Sherlock." He picked up Sherlock's clothing and helped him redress. "I have something you need to take care of." he said seductively leaning up on tip toes to kiss Sherlock.

"And what's that?" Sherlock asked with mock ignorance, and he tenderly rubbed John's bulging cock through his pants.

"Why don't I tell you at home?" John asked, and pulled Sherlock into a passionate kiss.

They left the reunion, and ignoring the stares from the ex soldiers, they got into their cab back to 221B.

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**A/N: Sequel where John get's his turn? Maybe? Idk.. You guys tell me.**


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